


Haunted 101

by somegunemojis



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, haku lives because in this house we love ourselves, if sai is gay and haku is gay who is flying the plane??, mostly - Freeform, sai is trans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 13:10:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somegunemojis/pseuds/somegunemojis
Summary: things go a little differently in the land of waves, and it ripples from there.set post-war. haku & sai become thick as thieves, because fuck it.





	1. revelations

**Author's Note:**

> this is, again, a series of drabbles i've written in response to prompts a friend has sent me. lio, icecurse on tumblr, is a huge inspiration for me and pushes me to be a better writer and person. thanks gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> actually angry for once. “you’re my friend, of course i care !” -- icecurse

          sai isn’t sure what’s happening right now. it’s not a particularly new feeling for him, when navigating social and emotional situations, but that doesn’t make it any more  _pleasant_. his shoulders are stiff, fingers clenched tight in the fabric of his sleeve, trying his hardest to keep the discomfort off his face. 

          the sluggish bleeding in his arm, the throb with every beat of his heart –  _that’s_  tolerable. he’s taken worse like an absolute champ. but haku’s reaction was unexpected, a little too raw, and he’s not quite sure what to do with it. the base irritation he feels constantly when people are angry with him is there, but overpowering that is … the need to self-correct, to take it back and smooth this over. he’d taken a startled step back when the other man had spoken, and after a moment of casting around for something to say and coming up relatively empty, he forces his posture to relax and gives haku a tense smile. 

          “my apologies. i didn’t mean to imply–” no, that’s not right. even if he’d been joking, he’d basically outright said haku didn’t give a shit about him. and if he’s upset about that – well, then he  _must_. the thought is almost thrilling, and his smile gains some genuine joy, despite still looking … off. “i didn’t mean to say you don’t care about me. it was a bad joke.” he shifts his weight, knowing that many find his unnatural stillness eerie, and turns a little to the side to bare his arm to his. to his friend. “will you still help me?”


	2. long fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> night has fallen over konoha. they’re sitting in silence on the roof, listening to pedestrian traffic & city soundscape waft up into the telephone wires like hot summer air. the stars are out, & haku thinks, not for the first time, that sai was made for darkness: his skin soaking up celestial light, black cropped hair an extension of the night. he doesn’t look human. perhaps that’s why haku says what he’s never said aloud before: ❛i don’t trust anything or anyone. i don’t feel anything at all.❜ -- icecurse

          sai’s hands are bare for once, he cannot stop staring at the backs of them. it is strange, for sure, but not something particularly interesting to look at. he thinks his hands are ugly, imperfectly ink-stained and too long, too lean. spider-like, an old woman in a tea house had said once, years ago, and perhaps this is why he does not like them. 

          but it’s look at his hands, or look at the village, or look at haku. his world is too small to look upon the vastness of the village, to see the lights in what must be a thousand windows, to wonder at the lives of those still awake at his hour. and he cannot look at haku, because looking makes him want to Touch. 

           the moonlight makes his present companion glow softly, and curiosity would have him reach across the distance between him and take one of his hands, or perhaps reach up and settle a palm against the curve of his cheek, run his thumb along the dark arch of his brow, the tips of his fingers over pale-pink-sticky lips. his hair is like ink spilled around his shoulders, silken and black, absorbing the light of the moon. sai wants to reach out and remember this, the beauty and the peace of the moment, burn it into his mind and guard it fiercely. 

          his hands are folded in his lap, and he barely looks away from them, from counting the scars, until haku speaks. even as he tilts his face to catch a glimpse at him from the corner of an eye, the hair on the back of his neck prickles. it’s the barest movement, the only one he makes. not even his expression wavers at the admission, and … sai wouldn’t pretend to know him well, to hold his secrets, but he can see a kindred spirit. cats and foxes, they are, and haku sounds almost mournful, despite the even tone. the faint longing may well be a figment of his imagination, but it still sends a pang into his chest, between his ribs, and he gives his friend a slow blink. 

          is this a confession? is he asking for advice? it cannot be pity, because haku isn’t one that invites it from anyone, and sai isn’t one to give it. a slight shift again, and he turns his silent stare to the ground below them, between his dangling feet over the edge. “you’re trying to find out how a watch works.” his voice is low, words just audible over the din from below them. “for now, let’s just keep an eye on the time.”


	3. vibrant red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two freshly kunai-cut stalks of red amaranth wrapped in flowering bindweed ( considered weeds in fire country ) placed behind both sai’s ears. because he keeps asking about random kiri customs while they’re walking, & haku half-hopes sai’s chatter will dwindle when given a task. “you have to guess what it means. i’ll let you know if your guess is hot or cold.” -- icecurse

          sai’s body stills, barely noticeable, when haku pulls out the kunai. he wonders if he’s finally annoyed the man into trying to cut his throat, and the thought … is unpleasant. but it disappears once he cuts the plants, and only quiet confusion remains. he is quiet while haku winds them together, places them in his hair with the utmost ceremony and care, and gives him a puzzle. 

          delicately, to not disturb their placement, he reaches up to trace the tip of a single bared finger along a leaf, and thinks back to a lesson given long ago. he can repeat the facts he knows, first, and work from there. 

          “amaranth grain is rich in protein, dietary fiber, and a variety of minerals, and some species are edible as leaf vegetables. the flowers are considered to be the darkest naturally-occurring red in the plant kingdom.” his eyes drift to haku, and he violently represses the memory of the last time he’d eaten it, boiled to mush because he'd shattered his zygomatic bone and part of his jaw. the report continues: “bindweed is a nuisance species to agriculturists because it’s prolific, but it purifies the soil where it grows. it also has a variety of helpful compounds, has been used to treat spider bites, and the flowers especially are believed to have antifungal and antibacterial properties.” 

            amaranth … he’s rather lost. he isn’t sure what “edible” and “good for you” would translate to metaphorically. he can at least take a guess for the other, head tilted in careful thought. “is bindweed a symbol of purification?” 

           haku's smile seems to grow with every word.


	4. wanderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “are you drunk? have you been drinking again? you’re fucking wasted, aren’t you?”

          the world is swirling around him, and the lights are too bright, and he’s – he’s miserable. he feels sticky, sweat and smoke clinging to him, the feel of ghost hands crawling all over his body and shoving him towards the wall. he puts an arm on the rough brick of the building next to him and leans his forehead on it, taking a slow breath of the cool night air. he’s too hot.

          haku sounds mad, enough to curse, which seems like it’s rare for him. did he fuck up? he must have fucked up somehow, but everything is kind of a blur so he can’t remember where exactly he fucked up, or maybe haku is just irritated in general, it’s probably annoying to be enjoying a nice walk and then find your drunk friend practically falling out of a club. at least he’s not puking, he’s. he’s got this shit. 

          “a little bit.” his tone misses ‘light’ by a mile, he ends up sounding about like he’s going to cry. which he isn’t going to do, obviously. sai does not  _cry_. no matter how drunk and pathetic he is, or how angry he makes someone. he pushes away from the wall and manages to maintain his balance, because he is a dignified walking weapon and he will not fall down until he makes it back to his place. he takes haku’s face carefully in his hands and looks at him for a long moment. the silence stretches, the tension breaks. “i’m not sure where we are.”

          he glances around the street, drops his hands, and meanders out of the alley. “what – what are you doing here?” 

          it doesn't matter what he _was_ doing here, what he ends up doing is dragging sai home. 


	5. silk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> casually steps out of sai’s mirror, one hand on hip as he surveys sai’s apartment for the very first time. it’s kind of drab. “well, it certainly matches your personality.”

          the apartment he walks into _is_ drab, plain pale walls and functional furniture, clean but not unnaturally so. it's as if he doesn't have much stuff to serve as clutter, the only concession to the man living there a small easel set up in the corner, paints stacked neatly, brushes in their container. there are no canvasses scattered about, nothing hangs from the walls, no fruit on the counter tops in the kitchen. in the bathroom, a bottle of unscented soap resides in the shower.

          sai is in the kitchen, pants undone and hair a mess, clinging to the sweat on his forehead, the back of his neck. he’s on his second glass of water when he feels the cool breeze against the back of his neck and wonders if, maybe, sasuke forgot to close a window. but. it’s hot outside, so that can’t be it –

          sai is  _inhaling_  half his glass of water when he turns around as haku speaks, startled into nearly jumping out of his skin and spilling the rest of his drink everywhere. he kicks his bedroom door shut to hide rumpled sheets and a dark head of hair and then takes a moment to hack the water out of his lungs, and. yeah, he’s laughing. he meanders into the tiny kitchen to set his cup on the counter, and then, voice hoarse and mock-grave, he replies, “you’ve discovered my secret: i am a bad decorator. now i have to kill you.”


	6. infamy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “you get one try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i made a joke once about sai having kinkdar instead of gaydar

          tension builds as sai spends a few moments staring intently down at his friend, with heavy eye contact, and very little blinking. sai tries not to look at people like this, because it tends to freak them out, but he knows haku can handle it. a moment is allowed for his own private amusement, because the other man is acting as if sai hasn’t already used his Special Skill on him – it’s more curse than gift, really, if he were the type to be bothered by this sort of thing. he can’t turn it off. 

               why do you think he knows kiba has a piss kink?

          he smiles, as he does, and with as much forced cheer as he can possibly muster, he replies, “do you want the exhaustive list? do we really have time for that? i’m not sure where i would even start –” 

          he doesn't get to finish, because haku lunges forward and slaps a hand over his mouth. and that, as they say, is that.


	7. reverse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> breaks into SAI'S apartment for once. kinda immediately regrets it, there's not a lot to do other than flip through sketchbooks. and the decorating's. still kinda ugly. he does find a fat dildo, but he OBVIOUSLY ISN'T TOUCHING THAT. so he tries taking a bath, but there isn't even ? a lot of nice soaps ? what the fuck sai. what the actual fuck. haku's taking a bubble bath and it isn't even fucking fun.

          scattered throughout his apartment are his normal art pieces, sunsets on canvas, some dented kunai, sketchbooks filled with aspects of day to day life, studies of his friends’ hands, their eyes, their smiles. haku isn’t wrong about the decor, however – the walls are bare, there are no pictures, no plants. his furniture is a neutral shade, his sheets stark-white and of a normal thread count, his bed perhaps a little firmer than most. and, of course, his dildo. haku is lucky that’s the only sex toy he found. 

         all of sai’s  _interesting_  stuff is shoved to the back of his closet, behind stacks and stacks of half-finished paintings, surreal and smeared and half finished, black ink on white paper, terrible to look at. to him, ‘interesting’ is anything that has to do with jutsu and sealing theory, some records that were mysteriously ‘missing’ from certain classified deep storage, and also a collection of handwritten letters.

          when he arrives home to an occupied flat, it’s the first place he checks when he slips in through his bedroom window, his allergy to doors not just applying to breaking into haku’s place. everything is in order there. the intruder must have been harmlessly snooping then, he may not have to kill them. he slips into the bathroom upon hearing some splashing, raising an eyebrow at haku stretched out in his rarely-used bath tub. the hunter disappears, the friend remains. neither of them are perturbed by the nudity.

          he doesn’t say anything, just disappears to rummage around for some essential oils – lavender, sure, oh and orange smells good right? – and returns after a moment, setting his meager collection on the side of the bath with a guileless smile.

          “i am getting your point. but using unscented soap for a bath isn’t very fun, is it. would you like to try these?”


End file.
